The Hearts of Tenacity Festival ( WoW N-RP Event - May 19-21st 2023 )
The Hearts of Tenacity Festival is coming up fast! Embrace this incredible experience with fellow community members with a passion for performances and storytelling!
Talthorn and Konietzko Syl'voran are your captivating hosts for this weekend of magic! ✨✨✨✨✨✨
We host our event at Tenacity Isle, a lone isle that is unnamed in game though we've given it a name!
The proxy is located as seen below, within Pandaria near the Kun-Lai Summit!
Please join for our DISCORD the most current info or check out our CARRD SITE!
https://www.tinyurl.com/HeartsDisc
https://heartsoftenacity.carrd.co/
Summary: Blix finds a new case.
Word Count: 875
Warnings: none
Mentions: @indraste-darktalon
Blix strolled into the craft room in the home that she and Indraste shared, her brow knit tightly together as she approached the table where Indy was leaned over an assortment of scrolls waiting to be enchanted. She held a map in her hands, along with a series of hastily-taken notes and a flyer torn from a notice board.
“Check this out,” she said, looking up to Indy as she tossed the flyer down. It was an advertisement – not just any, but one dually printed in Common and Darnassian, requesting a hunter for a string of deaths reported in Ashenvale.
Indy turned her head, picking up the flyer and reading it quickly with a frown. “You think this is a case, moonfire?”
“Yeah. See – I found this flyer in Duskwood,” Blix said. “Not common to see something like this that far out, so I did some digging. It looks like there are at least three victims reported in Ashenvale from the last two months – uh, Sentinel, Sentinel, and… a druid.” She pulled up a chair, laying out the notes she’d taken on the deceased and tapping them with a finger. “What do these guys have in common?”
“… They’re on their home front,” Indy said thoughtfully. “I could navigate Ashenvale with my eyes closed. Orcs have been there for so long that we don’t need help to take them out.”
“Mm,” Blix hummed. “Exactly. Three people, all who know the lay of the land like the back of their hand, and suddenly there’s a search for someone else who can hunt this thing down? Math ain’t mathin’.”
“So, what are you thinking?” Indy asked. “An angry spirit? Something the priestesses couldn’t handle?”
“I don’t know,” Blix admitted. “There’s no detail I can find anywhere on the bodies or how these folks died. That’s why I gotta go out there, figure out what’s going on. If it is something up my alley, y’know, chances are I’m about to see it as somethin’ straight out of my normal wheelhouse. Kalimdor has…” The human drew in a tense breath, frowning. “… a lot of tricks up its sleeve,” she mumbled.
“Just be careful, moonfire,” Indy said quietly. “I know I’ve been busy with preparing for the Tournament and Bertram.”
Bertram. The raven lord they’d recovered in Nagrand some weeks prior. Bertram thoroughly hated Blix after she’d attempted to throw down like a Westfall rodeo to subdue him, and she returned the sentiment after he’d thrown her off his back into a pile of clefthoof bones. The animosity had cooled, some, with Blix bringing a wealth of fish to the creature in an attempt to win his favor and remaining a very respectful distance back as she held conversation with the feathered beast, but he was still acclimating. Hell, he’d almost bitten off one of her flesh fingers two days prior.
Damn bird.
“No, no – wildflower, you’re fine. Don’t worry about that. I’m not worried about it. I want you to come with me.” She raised her brows, reaching out to take Indy’s hand. “You said it yourself – you know Ashenvale by heart. I want you with me. It’s not familiar ground for me, and whatever this is, I want to be able to have you there in case shit hits the fan. You’re fast, but not ‘get from Duskwood to Ashenvale in ten flat’ fast.”
Indy blinked, her brows lofting as she regarded Blix for a long moment. “You know – that makes a lot more sense. I wasn’t keen on letting you go by yourself, to begin with –“
“It’s a no-brainer, wildflower. Anywhere I go, you come with me. We’re a team.” Blix shot her wife an affectionate smile, standing to press a kiss to her cheek. “We’ll leave to handle this as soon as the Tournament’s over. When was the last time you slept longer than five hours in a single stretch?”
Indy’s ears pinned back as she thought over the question for a moment, and Blix plucked a feather that had sprouted out of her braid. “… I’m not sure,” she admitted.
“Mm. Come on. I’m brushing your hair out and you’re going to bed,” Blix ordered quietly. “You can’t work while you’re this exhausted – trust me, the enchantments will be fine until tomorrow. Do you want dinner?”
“Yes,” Indy sighed, her shoulders sagging as she relaxed. “Most definitely. I know I ate breakfast this morning…”
“And worked straight through lunch,” Blix concluded, her head tilting. “Mm. Okay. Food, first. What do you feel like? I’ve got some leftover pork – I can make you some bandil anato-bashore.” The suggestion drew a wide smile from Indy, who rose and wrapped Blix in a hug before pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair.
“Making me Darnassian food?” Indy said softly. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”
“It’s what I do best, wildflower. Go sit – I’ll be with you shortly.” Blix winked, and departed to prepare Indy’s meal. She adored her wife, but she’d be damned if she didn’t see the resemblance to the almost fugue state both of them were susceptible to working themselves into.
Maybe a trip to Ashenvale would be a good refresher for them both, once the case had been addressed.
The Kingdom Market is looking for vendors for its return to Stormwind City! On July 14th from Sixth bell till Ninth bell, the Kingdom Market will be open for business in Old Town. This time around, 25% of vendor proceeds will go towards aiding refugees across Stormwind with a special emphasis for those whose lives were disrupted by the fourth war.
Check out our website: https://kingdom-market.carrd.co/
Join our Discord: https://discord.gg/C5PrdwKurb
Time: July 14th, 6:00 PM - 9:00 PM (WRA Server Time)
Location: Old Town, Stormwind City
Anchor: Telva-WyrmrestAccord
“The sound. That awful, tapping sound. That driving, piercing, almost mind numbing sound of metal on metal, teeth to bone, what is that. Gods be damned. Its Rhythmic. “
TAP TAP TAP TAP
“Why does it mock me? Why is it there? Why wont it leave? Who is that!”
TAP TAP TAP TAP
“It is there again. What is it! Why is it there? Gods be damned why cant I see!”
TAP TAP TAP DRIP
Some sounds are often amplified by the extreme given the situation, the location and the amount of vibration echoing from wall to wall. The Oubliette down in the darkest regions of the Bastille was something that only those who were destined for great things would see.
Sound traveled forever here. Or to the mind of someone who had been secured there for several days without food or water; without anything outside of their own thoughts, to that person, Sound was the most terrifying beast in existence.
Strung by his arms; rusted links of saronite secured around each hand, there was a moderately handsome elf. Or at least he was at one point. He was chained to the ceiling, his ankles also secured to the floor. From what it smelled like; it was a dank sewer. The smell of musty water and iron were heavy here. Almost over powering.
The prisoner could not see. He was blindfolded and was only able to use his sense of hearing and smell to determine what was happening. Again, sound being the greatest ally, but also the most horrific entity ever known.
The tapping sound came from the rats that were gnawing at the other bones of victims in other cells. Their own chain links rattling against the bars where they had ultimately been left to rot. There was no shame in this. Dark actions meant dark consequences.
The dripping sound; well that was something entirely different.
The elven prisoner would start to feel an overwhelming sense of pain come surging into his body from the back; unbeknownst to him he had already had his clothing removed, there was a reason for the pain. A large series of stitch marks went along both sides of his spine and neck; someone had already operated and repaired the tissue.
“HELLO!”
He cried as his senses started to return to him.
“HELLO! SOMEONE?”
The response that would come was not only unexpected, but would also be dreadfully terrifying to hear.
“Good Evening Mister Morningstar, I trust you are beginning to regain some of the sensation to your brain?”
“Whose there! Who is that! What are you doing? Why am I---”
The voice again would shush him, softly; almost consoling him as if the current situation was nothing to fear.
“You will notice that your arms and legs are currently suspended from Saronite chains; you have been this way for over three days. You will feel nothing in them. Severing the nerves leading to your brain and spinal column, you have no sensation from your hips and shoulders to your extremities. They have already started to turn; the lose of blood to your arms and the tightness of the restraints on your feet. You will soon notice the flesh begin to blacken and die off. But you will not feel this.”
“What in the name of all the light are you talking about! HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME! GODS BE DAMNED HELP ME!”
Again the voice would silence the prisoner with a shushing sound.
“There are no mortals that can hear your cries Bartholomew. This is important so you should probably pay attention. The rats in this chamber do not get fed. They expect to be anytime there is a visitor. You will find that the severing of your nerves will be a good thing, but only goes toward. . .about here.”
The interrogator then reached out and lightly pinched the captive on his triceps, and again on his inner thigh.
“The sensation will begin to return the higher you go on your body. Your abdomen, penis, testicles, pectoral muscles and organs. These are still very much active and the pain receptors will register. You should know Mister Morningstar; my goal is and always was to kill you. I take great pleasure in this. Pleasure because you. . .sir, have decided that your own benefits of life outweigh that of the people you hunt. You’ve chosen to ally yourself with the demon of avarice itself, and will pay dearly for your mistakes.”
“I dont even know who you are, or what you are talk--”
“Raelyndia Duskhollow.”
There was silence again. The sound of rats gnawing on the last bits of flesh from another corpse could be heard only feet away from them. It drowned the sound of the chamber in its repetitive song. The name alone was enough to silence the swinging elven captive. The name was more than enough to enlighten him. It was the calling card of his death.
“You know exactly why you are here. You know what you have done. And you know that you have taken your last steps basking in the glow of the morning sun. Taken your last lung full of fresh sweet, autumn air in the gardens of Quelthalas. You. . . my dear Mister Morningstar. You have forfeited your life for hers. And as such; it has been claimed. And that debt is now ready for collection.”
There was silence yet again as the tapping sound of rats shaking chains consumed the elven mans mind. He snapped, panicking and shaking the chains he was suspended from.
“I dont want to die here! Please gods, by the Light I will tell you anything! I only wanted the perks! It was beneficial to my House! The Gallows, they promised me tha--”
The voice once again brushed across his mind as the hissing sound of his shushing came through once again.
“The time for talk is all but over, Bartholomew. While you were unconscious, I was able to dissect a portion of your memory from the hippocampus. Securing what I needed deep within receptors of your neo-cortex. You serve no purpose any longer. I have the locations I need. I have the names I have been seeking. And from here out; you. . .my dear friend, are obsolete.”
The chilling reminder that usefulness was only as deep as the information provided soon wrought its ugly head for the captive man. A sense of defeat, acceptance maybe?
“What will happen to me. . .”
Footsteps softly padded along the floor, dry and hitting stone at first, but soon masked in a soft squishing sound that would indicate wetness. Blood perhaps?
“Your cellmates will begin to devour the parts of your body that you currently have no feeling in. The blood that has begun to entropy inside of the appendages will sustain them for a moment. But the smell of rot will not stop them; but drive them further. You will feel them as they devour your thighs and biceps. As well as every other part of your body. They will tire eventually. Growing fat and full. The saliva within their jaws carries with it a very dangerous toxin. Most vermin have this. You will mostly die of blood loss, hunger, fatigue and the infection that will soon follow their biting. And after all of this, you will suffer for as long as it takes; you will die here. Alone, Cold, and aware that you have nothing left to give.”
The realization that there was no reasoning with this madman sunk in. But it was not enough to deter the man from whimpering.
“I--I am sorry. . .”
The prisoner was then grabbed by the face. Forefingers and thumb squeezing his cheeks closed as his head was steadied and the man who held him spoke.
“Do not patronize me with your pathetic attempts at redemption now. You cost the lives of hundreds. You cause suffering. You cause fear and pain. The blood of my people, my friends, my sister. . .is on your hands. There is not a single word you could whimper to me that would ever convince me otherwise that you are nothing more than a spineless maggot. And you would have gone on doing as you were; enacting and enabling those horrific acts to continue, had you not been caught red handed by me.”
“I don’t even know you. . .”
The elven man cried pathetically as he whispered out the fact.
Suddenly the blindfold was ripped from the mans eyes; the flash of fire that caught his pupils from the torch behind the captors face blinded him. When he focused his attention; a face of pale deathly white peered at him. Veins of sickening black venom spiderwebbing from his nose, eye sockets and mouth. They were accompanied by pits of empty blackness for eyes.
“Then let my name be the last thing you think about before you are consumed by your villainy.”
He moved in closely and whispered softly into his ear; the touch that was accompanied on his cheek fading as the terrifying face and body slowly vanished. It left the man speechless as the voice burrowed deep into his mind.
“I am Lazarius Kash’ebahl. . . and we have returned. . .We are The Nine.”
Silence, Terror, Echos of madness. Morningstar hung there in shock, his mind racing. There was little he could do. And as soon as he was alone; that familar sound returned. And he screamed until his vocal chords bled; trying to drown out that insufferable. . .
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Small battle scares, nothing major.
COMMON ACCESSORIES: A piece of jewelry around her neck; A gold choker with a rose-shaped attachment to it. The charm would not seem of much value if it were to be sold, but still seems like an elegant piece of work that is worn by her at all times. Even despite the charm not being worth a lot, it is seen as her most precious possession
PERSONAL
PROFESSION: Field-Medic | Priestess of the Sunwell | Tea Master
INCOME SOURCE: Family Wealth & ‘Tealightful Tea Company’
HOBBIES: Reading / Tea Enthusiast / Playing the Harp / Herbalist
LANGUAGES: Thalassian / Orcish / Common
RESIDENCE: Eversong Woods
RELIGION: Eh...
FEARS: Failing at protecting those close to her / Open Water
RELATIONSHIPS
SPOUSE: Aelrin Dawnheart(Deceased)
CHILDREN: None
PARENTS: Lady Alisanda Silenthope(Deceased) / Lord Taelison Silenthope(Deceased)
SIBLINGS: Unknown
OTHER RELATIVES: Unknown (Currently)
FRIENDS: Small Circle - Unimportant
PETS: Moonflower (Moth Companion)
TRAITS
extroverted / introverted / in between
disorganized / organized / in between
close-minded / open-minded / in between
calm / anxious / in between
reckless / cautious / in between
patient / impatient / in between
outspoken / reserved / in between
disagreeable / agreeable / in between
empathetic / unemphatic / in between
faithful / unfaithful / in between
optimistic / pessimistic / in between
traditional / modern / in between
hard-working / lazy / in between
SMOKING: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess
DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess
ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess
QUIRKS
She absolutely ADORES tea. She owns her own tea brand and Tea house known as ‘Tealightful Tea Company’. So you more than likely will catch her having a cup of tea in the middle of Silvermoon or discussing tea with others!
She has a tendency to stick to traditions and things she is familiar with, which causes her to be paranoid and anxious around newcomers, especially non-Thalassians. This may result in a judgmental and moody outcome. However, once she gets comfortable, she is kind and caring.
WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR
• I am looking for anyone looking to be friends with Vereena, whether that be on Tumblr or in-game. I am primarily an RPer in-game, however, I am more than happy to build my presence here on Tumblr!
• House Silenthope is also something I’d be happy to grow as well, rather than just my own characters and head canon. Just contact me with your ideas! • Storyline! Events! Growing the Thalassian Community!
WHAT I AM NOT LOOKING FOR
• Out of Character Drama - I am more than happy with In Character drama but OoC drama needs to stay away. We are all here to have a good time and make friends!
• Erotic Roleplay(ERP) - Please do not attempt or even ask. Not interested.
CONTACT INFO: Feel free to contact me on Tumblr or seek Vereenà out in game!
Join us TONIGHT at 7 server at the Dreamer’s Pavilion for Professor Elvae Windcrush’s lecture on The Rise and Fall of Apexis. This is a neutral event, so don’t forget your potions! Hope to see you all there!
